The Fourth
by Closet Cleaner
Summary: It's the Fourth of July and two nations are trying to forget the events that happened many years ago. Will their friends be able to fix the two drunken puddles of loneliness? What will happen when Alfred lets slip a secret that he's been hiding for years? USUK. Yaoi.
1. England

**Pairing: USUK (The Hero always tops!)  
Story Warnings: Yaoi (Slash. BL. MxM. Mansex), swearing, alcohol abuse, angst.  
Chapter Warnings: Swearing, alcohol, angst.  
Summary: It's the Fourth of July and two nations are trying to forget the events that happened many years ago. Will their friends be able to fix the two drunken puddles of loneliness? What will happen when Alfred lets slip a secret that he's been hiding for years? USUK. ****Yaoi. **  


**A/N: I know! I haven't updated in FOREVER! Do not fear, friends and slightly more attractive friends! I am not dead! (Back to reality) You'll all be happy to know that I have gotten a beta! Now you'll actually be able to understand what the hell I'm saying! My little Uke-chan sadly has no FF account, but trust me: she writes like a beautiful angel that's tripping somethin' fierce! I am honored to have her beta for me! ^~^  
I shall not keep you any longer. **

**Enjoy!**

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A loud banging sound infiltrated Arthur's consciousness –what was left of it, anyway– but he studiously ignored it. He was too depressed to care what was causing it and too drunk to fix it if he did.

Arthur was no stranger to alcohol. It had in fact, remained a close companion over the course of his long life. As a result, it'd taken a large supply of the abovementioned companion to get him this sufficiently drunk. Normally, he would have found a different solution to whatever problem was ailing him, but this was different.

He glared balefully at the calendar from his place face-up on the floor where three 'X's' marked out the countdown to his annual pitiful-wallowing-binge-of-sadness-and-regret. Arthur groaned as he remembered what had happened all those years ago, on July 4th, 1776.

He'd tried. God knows he'd tried. He didn't want Alfred to leave him. He'd asked, reasoned, demanded, and begged his colony to stay. All to no avail. The island nation recalled the violent war that had ensued, every drop of blood that had been spilled seeming to land in his hands, making his grip on America slide and slide until the younger nation slipped right through his fingers.

Alfred had made his point very clear that day: Arthur was no longer welcome in his life.

The betrayal still stung.

He would have continued his stagger down Memory Lane had a hushed whisper not vaguely caught his attention.

"Look, he's over there." Some shuffled steps and a few muffled curses later, and the light flickered on. He raised an arm to block out the streams of pain that filtered in through his retinas, but not before he saw three figures silhouetted against it.

"It's no wonder he didn't answer the door."

A sigh sounded quietly, full of annoyance and disappointment "Look at you, _mon ami_. You're almost as bad as he is."

"That's it! We're taking him."

"Antonio, we can't do that. Look at the state he's in!"

"_Calléte_, Roderich! That's exactly why we _need_ to."

"He's right. They'll never sort it out themselves, miserable fools."

Arthur didn't appreciate being hoisted up by the three men –who he recognized all too well– but they either ignored his protests, or he wasn't very articulate with the haze of drink and exhaustion clouding his mind. But as he was half-dragged half-carried through his house, he realized that he was not as intoxicated as he'd thought, because he was all-too aware of what was happening around him and could clearly see the worry etched on the faces of his visitors.

When the nations reached their destination –_the kitchen?_– they shoved the United Kingdom, in all his regal self roughly down into a chair and pushed something into his hands. Arthur looked down belatedly to see a cup of coffee in his grasp, and his face scrunched up. Coffee was more America's thing. He preferred a nice cup of tea.

"Drink."

He looked up to see his oldest friend (though he'd never admit it to the frog) kneeling in front of him with a tired and pleading expression on his face. Austria and Spain were standing behind him, arms crossed with diluted versions of the same expression. He frowned.

"No."

France put his hands on his friend's knees. "Please, _mon ami_. We need you thinking straight for a moment."

He shook his head as violently as he could without making his head spin. "No! I don't wanna think. Hurts too much."

England could tell that his words affected the blond in front of him greatly. His expression melted into pained determination and he stood, grasping Arthur's shoulders.

"You are killing yourself, Arthur! And you're hurting him!" He let go of England's shoulders and began to pace. "How can you be so _blind_?" Something in the other nation's voice made him glance back at the porcelain mug in his hands. He could always get drunk again later…

With that rationale, he downed the foul liquid in one go, and slammed the cup down on the table. He ignored the hopeful look in France's face, too focused on Spain refilling his cup.

He grimaced, noticing that he still had a slight slur to his voice. "How much'a this rubbish do you expect me to drink?"

France smiled, "Enough to make you companionable." He paused. "Keep drinking."

Four cups later, and Arthur was feeling almost completely sober –much to his dismay.

"Alright, frog. Enough of this. What do you want?" The three exchanged glances that made England question his decision to try and sober up. "What?"

"Come with us." He narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but eventually complied.

Once outside, however, he was met with a shock of freezing water. He looked up at the dark sky and squinted as fat drops of water fell into his eyes. If he wasn't sober before, the glacial winds that seemed to whip around him definitely did the job.

'_Why is it so cold?' _He wondered. _'It's the middle of July.'_

"England." Said nation turned to look at France, who was beckoning to him from a few strides away. "This way, if you don't mind."

He sighed, ducking his head against the cascade of water. "Mind telling me where we're going now that you've come to my house unannounced and dragged me out into the pouring rain?"

The usually-whimsical nation shook his head. "Not too far."

* * *

"No."

One glance at the house in front of him, and Aurthur whipped around and started heading back.

"England."

"No!" He turned to face his lifelong rival with a look of rage and pain. "What don't you understand? I don't. Want. To see. Him. And he doesn't want to see me. He made _that_ very clear."

"Arthur! You're the one who doesn't understand! Just once, _talk _to him about it! It's about time you did! Please! For me? For him. For yourself, damnit! Just talk to him!"

He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. He wanted to lash out at the long-haired nation so badly it hurt.

"I'll remember this." Aurthur said, opening his eyes to reveal flaming emerald orbs.

France nodded solemnly. "It's worth it."

As the four of them approached the doorstep –France and Austria in the lead followed by England and then Spain– a small figure was visible through the deluge of water.

"_Bonjor_, France. Austria. Are you here to drop something off for America?"

The blond nation gave a small smile. "Yeah, Mattie. I am." With that, England was roughly pushed from behind so that he stumbled out from between the two other nations.

Matthew gasped at the sight of him, and turned to his old mentor with a worried look. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

The nation just smiled softly. "It's the only one we've got left."

The smaller male just nodded slowly, never taking his eyes off Arthur. "I guess…just…be careful, okay?"

The island nation furrowed his monstrous brows at the Canadian's words. "Will do…" he muttered, taking a few steps towards the door. His hand hovered over the knob for a few seconds, before he glanced back. Four heads nodded back at him.

He took a deep breath…and entered.

* * *

_Calléte_: Shut up

_mon ami_: My friend

_Bonjor: _Hello (but you knew that)

**Love it? Hate it? Want to correct my grammar or tell me I'm weird? I'm not psychic! And even if I was, I wouldn't have the time to mentally sniff you out. REVIEW!**


	2. America

**Story Warnings: Yaoi (Slash. BL. MxM. Mansex), swearing, alcohol abuse, angst.  
Chapter Warnings: Swearing, alcohol, angst, and destructive use of super-strength.  
**

**A/N: So this is where it starts getting super angsty, but bare with me. Soon, they won't be able to get their hands off each other! ^_^**

**Enjoy!**

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The door slammed shut behind Arthur as he stood frozen in shock.

He'd always expected America's birthday parties to be loud and raucous, but the level of destruction that greeted him was something else entirely. It was as if a rhinoceros had gone through his living room in a rage. The lights were all smashed, but in the dark he could still see the aftermath of whatever had gone down. The coffee table was broken, one half near the door and the other overturned at the bottom of the stairs. The bookshelf was thrown across the room, leaving a trail of books and random objects from its original place against the far wall. There was a golf club sticking out of the TV screen, which was face-up in the corner. Large holes could be seen in the walls where it looked like someone punched though them, and the rubble littered the floor. In the middle of the room, a corded phone hung from the ceiling fan. The scraping of the receiver on the ground was the only noise that could be heard throughout the house.

A shiver ran through the blond man's spine as the foreboding sight. Something told him that the owner of the house was sole person responsible for the damage, and that only strengthened his urge to leave as quickly as he could.

The sound of movement from upstairs caught his attention, and he swallowed thickly before venturing to the staircase. Stepping over the broken furniture and into the stairwell, he noticed more damage. All of the picture frames that had lined the wall leading up were laying smashed on the steps, and they crunched underneath Arthur's feet as he ascended.

As he got to the top, the sound of sobbing reached the England's ears. He frowned and followed the noise into what he assumed was America's bedroom, and he noted that the only remnants of the actual door were the broken hinges.

Stepping in, he noticed that it was even darker than the rest of the house, and it took a while for his eyes to adjust. As definition bled into the blackness, he managed to find the light-switch, flipping it a few times, but it didn't work; no doubt the bulb had been smashed. He looked around before spotting a candle and some matches. As the orange flame sputtered to life, he took in a sharp breath. There was more of the destruction from downstairs and various liquor containers littered the floor.

Curious, he bent to pick up an empty bottle of vodka with a small tag attached to the neck.

_I know you don't like company around this time of the year, but if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here. –Ivan_

Arthur frowned. Since when was Russia that…helpful? He set it down and picked a similarly empty bottle of wine.

_If the past is any indicator, this will be gone in a few minutes, but I hope it makes you feel even a little better. –Feliciano_

_You can't keep doing this. We may not be there to help you if you hurt yourself again. –Romano_

The ancient nation's arm dropped limply by his side and he vaguely registered the sound of the bottle hitting the carpet. Something was desperately wrong with his ex-colony and it seemed like everyone knew about it but him. _'What the hell?'_

He heard a choked sob –louder than before– and looked up. Beside the overturned bed was a figure slumped over, trembling and the blond nation immediately rushed towards it. "A-Alfred?" He asked quietly, putting his hand on his old charge's arm.

The man before him stilled before turning his face to the side. Arthur gasped at the haunted look on the other's face. Large shadows hung under dull blue eyes like ink stains, and the usually glossy sandy-blond hair that fell over them was faded and dingy. His whole face was wet and blotchy with redness, and Arthur couldn't help but gather the nation into his arms. It was instinct to clutch the man in front of him tightly whenever something was wrong, and he did it without shame. He rubbed at the broad back and a pained smile tugged at his lips as he realized just how much his colony had grown. He was surrounded by the other colony, and large arms crushed him closer so that he was the one being held. Nevertheless, his hand continued to move as he whispered soothing nothings into the cook of the younger nation's neck.

"It's okay." He muttered "I'm here. I've got you. You're okay."

Suddenly he was grabbed by the biceps and held out. Bleary azure eyes squinted at him, but through the drink, exhaustion, tears, and the fact that his glasses were nowhere to be found, it seemed that he couldn't quite decide who he had just been crushing in his strong arms. "M…Mattie?" He asked.

Arthur didn't know what to say. Should he revel who he really was? Alfred seemed so wasted that it probably wouldn't matter...but then again, what if he wasn't?

"Yeah." He said quietly. "It's Mattie. Don't worry..."

America just nodded before his gaze dropped down to a large book lying open on the floor. England was surprised to see that it was a photo album. He'd been in such a rush to help that he hadn't even seen that the man had been slumped over anything. On closer inspection, however, his jaw dropped open in shock. It was full of pictures of him and Alfred when the boy was just a colony.

"I fucked up, Mattie."

Arthur looked up to see new tears leaking out of the sapphire eyes in heavy streams. "What do you mean?" He asked softly.

"I just– " He wet his lips, and proceeded to slur out an almost unintelligible string of words. "I just wanted him to see m'differently, ya'know? I– I didn't want 'im to be my mentor or m'brother or m'father or somthn'. I juss…wanted him to see that I was a man now…I didn't want 'm to see me as a kid anymore…and…an…oh, he sees me differently now! He sees me 's an idiot. 'N he hates me. 'N he doesn't realize that I love 'im an that I didn't wan'im _out_ of m'life, I juss wanted 'im somewhere _else_ in m'life."

Emerald eyes widened as he deciphered the hero's words, and tears welled up with a multitude of emotions before he forced himself to squash them down. _'He's plastered.' _The island reminded himself. _'He might not have any idea what he's saying. And he might not be talking about…'_

He pushed the album away and pushed the larger nation down, curling up next to the man. "Go to sleep, Alfred." He said. "We'll talk in the morning." He felt the other nod and soon they both fell asleep to the sound of the rain falling outside.

**By the way, you should all write stories so that you can feel the rare bubble of pure excitement that is only felt when you read a review to one of your stories. (Hint, hint)**


	3. Truth

**Story Warnings: Yaoi (Slash. BL. MxM. Mansex), swearing, alcohol abuse, angst.  
Chapter Warnings: Swearing, angst, and dudes makin' out. (Quite the trifecta there, ne?)  
**

**A/N: This is the part where things start to get good, and then the author places an infuriating chapter-break right where no one wants one. I just can't help myself! ^_^  
**

**Enjoy!**

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Pain. Pain everywhere.

America groaned and squeezed his eyes tighter. His head hurt from what seemed like a colossal hangover, and his whole body was aching as if he'd fallen asleep on a hard surface. _'Uuuughh.' _In the back of his mind, he knew that if he was this hung-over, it meant that he'd either had a huge party and he had to go clean up his house or he was really upset about something…which also usually meant he had to go clean up his house. Unfortunately, that information was in the back of his mind and thus, was behind the huge wall of pain that was consuming his senses and would have to wait its turn.

He tried to make himself more comfortable by shifting around a bit, but in doing so, he only brought one thought to his head.

'_I'm holding someone.'_ He tried to remember the night before, and his eyes flew open.

Yesterday was his birthday.

A familiar ache began to settle in his chest as he remembered the horrible mistake he had made over two hundred years ago. In an unconscious act of self-comfort, he clutched the person in his arms closer which reminded him that he did, in fact, have a person in his arms.

He looked down to see a mop of blond hair and frowned at the unhelpfulness. Half of the people he knew were blond. Slowly, he rolled the person over before sitting bolt upright. "Fuck!"

Green eyes fluttered open at the loud interjection and Alfred could see recognition as well as –uncertainty?– slowly seeping into their emerald depths. Neither of them spoke for a while before Arthur cleared his throat. "Alfred." He said, his face becoming unreadable.

"Arthur." He looked away from the older nation, his hand coming up to scratch at his neck. "What…what are you doing in my room?"

A small chuckle brought his gaze back to his old mentor. "Funny story, that." He sat up slowly and Alfred couldn't help but wet his lips as the other stretched a bit. "Austria, Spain, and the frog came to my house yesterday. Said that I needed to talk to you." Twin emeralds searched his face inquiringly before looking away. The Englishman sighed and stood up, moving to right an upset chair before sitting in it. He set his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands in front of him. "I must say, I'm surprised. You love gloating so much, I'd have expected you to celebrate your birthday a little…differently."

A mixture of pain and shame colored America's face and he looked down quickly, sandy hair covering his eyes. "Yeah, well, I guess if you ever bothered to visit on my birthday, you'd know, wouldn't you?"

England's impressive eyebrows dropped into a frown as silence descended upon them once more. While Alfred refused to look up from the floor, Arthur took his chance to let his eyes roam over the younger. He'd changed so much since his colonial days. He was bigger, stronger, more successful. He'd made an impact on the world like none other, proving his mentor dead wrong about not being ready for nationhood. Without England, he had flourished, and that saddened him a bit for reasons he couldn't understand. He wanted America to succeed. He'd dreamed of him becoming a strong nation since he was just a tiny colony. That's what love was: wanting the other to be happy. But Arthur was selfish. He wanted Alfred to be happy _with him._ And God-forbid he unite with another nation…the blond island gritted his teeth as jealousy bubbled inside of him. _'No. Let's not think about that.'_

Alfred chewed at the inside of his cheek as the silence crept onward _'Shit. I don't know what to say…' _Luckily for him, Arthur spoke for him. "…May I ask you just one question?" America looked up, shocked to see the older nation's eyelashes wet and glittering. He nodded slowly. "What did I do wrong?"

The blue-eyed man frowned. "What do you mean?"

England scrubbed his hand through his hair. "I've been over it in my head again and again for the last two-hundred-odd years. Some nights I barely sleep because it's all I can think about. I…" He swallowed thickly as a knot formed in his throat. "I tried to be a good leader to you. I did my best to make you happy, but in the end…" The tears that had been gathering on his fair lashes dropped as he blinked, splashing onto his pale cheeks. "What did I do to make you hate me so much?"

Alfred's eyes steadily widened. Wordlessly he stood up, walking to the other, footsteps loud against the floor as he approached. Slowly he knelt in front of the other man, putting his hands on the blond's knees. "Arthur…I never once hated you." The emerald-eyed nation looked to the side, but Alfred would have none of it. He grabbed England's chin and pulled it to face him. "I didn't want to be your colony…because I wanted to be your equal. I– I did it to make you proud. I thought that if I became a great nation like you, you'd take me seriously."

"Take you seri…what are you going on about? When did I not take you seriously?"

"I–It's not that you _didn't_ it's that you _wouldn't_. You would've just laughed at me and ignored it if I'd told you back then…maybe even now…"

Arthur frowned. "Told me what?"

Silence.

"Alfred?" Blue orbs –clearly visible without their usual glass shields in the way– hardened with determination, and the United Kingdom began to lean back warily.

Suddenly, a hand came back to clasp the back of his neck, pulling him forward into a searing kiss. A noise of surprise left him, but it was lost in the intensity of the kiss. Alfred's eyes were screwed tightly shut, but Arthur's were wide with shock. This couldn't be happening. He was still asleep. Or maybe in a coma with a brain tumor being pumped full of drugs that gave him the most unrealistic dreams his mind could think of. _'Spot_ _on, mind.'_ He couldn't help it. He'd spent the last two and a half centuries believing his love to be wrong and unrequited, and now...

Tears squeezed through Alfred's clenched lids as he poured his bottled-up emotions into the kiss. He kissed and lapped desperately, his grip on the other's hair tightened, crushing his lips to his partner's unresponsive ones. '_No no no no! Please!'_ He sucked Arthur's bottom lip into his mouth and nibbled on it before returning to his fierce kiss, but still there was no movement from his ex-mentor. _'Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!' _He sobbed into the mouth he was trying to devour, and that seemed to wake England from his stupor.

A hesitant hand reached up to cup the younger nation's wet cheek as he began to move to the passionate rhythm that had been set upon their lips. The choked moan that left the dirty blond as he began to respond sent a shiver of want down his spine. He'd dreamed of something like this for so long, and he still couldn't believe it was really happening. He parted his lips in invitation, and let out a moan of his own as the larger man wasted no time in plundering his mouth. Arthur didn't attempt to fight the dominating presence of the other's slick muscle lavishing his teeth, gums, and anything else it could find. Instead, he moved with it, allowing the more inexperienced nation to lead. It didn't really make sense, but it felt right. And damn if America wasn't doing a good job of it.

Alfred's chest swelled with euphoric feelings as his love answered his silent confession. It was even better than he'd imagined –and God how he'd imagined. The little noises that the shorter man was making only made him more desperate for more. He wanted to know what other noises he could draw out of the man. A small part of him told himself that he was moving too fast, but he silenced it. He'd waited for centuries. 'Too fast' didn't even fit into that equation.

With that in mind, he quickly pulled Arthur from the chair and pushed him to the ground. He broke the kiss to look down at his soon-to-be-lover, and the look swirling in the verdant gaze that looked up at him was filled with all of the want and need that were churning inside of him.

"I'm going to take you now." He said, his voice husky with lust.

The pliant body beneath him shuddered. "_Please_."

That wanton cry was all he needed.

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***Smirk* And that's all you'll get unless I get some encouragement. (Translate: I'll be sad if no one reviews.)**


	4. Complete

**Story Warnings: Yaoi (Slash. BL. MxM. Mansex), swearing, alcohol abuse, angst.  
Chapter Warnings: Swearing and sex. Dirty, sweaty, mansex.**

** A/N: Okay. Wow. So many reviews! You guys don't know how freakin happy I was to get all of that feedback! I was so happy, that I stayed up until 1:30 in the morning three nights in a row writing this for you guys! Oh, and my beta hasn't gotten back to me yet (that's what's been taking so long) so it my be updated in the future.  
**

**The people you should thank for motivating me to write this chapter: ****Daisy-Max1196, Ashlee, Sammy, Seborga-RPer, Black wolf White wolf77, Thelittlemonster, Ita-chan18, hahadonthinkso, and Guest.**

**Enjoy!**

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Large hands slid down Arthur's sides, caressing them through his green military jacket before coming to rest on his hips. Lips descended on his own for the second time, and this time he responded immediately, leaning up to meet the younger so fast that their teeth clicked together.

He reached up shakily to unzip the heavy bomber jacket –the everyday noise of hooks pulling apart now sounded so erotic with the heat that was pumping through him. When it was undone, Alfred sat up and quickly shucked it off, throwing it into the mess that was his room. While he was up, the ex-colony peeled his shirt off, too and Arthur got a good look at his partner's chiseled form. Without his usual layers, it was easy to imagine where he got his incredible strength.

The body underneath him moaned and Alfred looked down to see mossy eyes traveling over his body. A part of him wanted to cover himself back up, but instead his lips pulled up into a smirk. After all, England wasn't wrong when he'd said the boy liked to brag. "You're drooling, Iggy."

The blond blushed and looked away at the husky words, adorned with that sexy, wolfish grin. Normally he would have snapped back at the ridiculous nickname, but this time the tone that laced the words only caused his blood to run south. His cock twitched as the larger man leaned down, molding his body to Arthur's and encasing it in that searing heat. Something wet traveled up his neck, and he shuddered as Alfred let out a hum of contentment. He moaned as America bit down on the pale column, sucking gently and drawing blood to the surface. It would leave a mark –which was probably the American's intentions– but it felt so good Arthur couldn't bring himself to care.

Alfred moved to look down at the blotchy red spot and felt his groin heat up at the sight. '_Mine._' He thought. '_Finally mine._' The younger man nearly groaned at the thought, and ground his hips into Arthur's in a slow, agonizing rhythm.

"Ah…hn…oh..._God_!" The island nation's eyes were scrunched up at the steady assault as small whimpers tumbled from his lips.

America grinned. "Just 'Alfred' is fine, Iggy." he said, chuckling deeply.

Emerald eyes cracked open just long enough to level a glare before another wave of pleasure rolled through him. He clutched tightly to strong, bare biceps as their clothed erections continued their motions. A rush of cold air caused him to gasp as his jacket and shirt were literally ripped off of him. Alfred threw the scraps of material over with the rest of his clothes before doing the same to the blond's pants.

"Was that really necessary?" he grumbled, as his naked sides were again caressed by coarse hands. He liked the feel of those hands. They were large and rough like his personality, not gentleman's hands like many of the nations he knew. He grit his teeth as those hands fingered the waistband to his last remaining piece of clothing. When they didn't move any further, he looked up to see molten sapphire eyes roaming over his face. The older nation bit his lip. "Alfred…?"

"You have no idea how long I've wanted this." His voice was low –almost a whisper– but Arthur bit back a moan at the words. He'd never felt so…desired. He reached up to lace his fingers in the American's soft, sandy hair and pulled him down into a kiss.

Unlike the other kisses they'd shared, this one was slow and sensual. It wasn't rough or needy, but it still made the rest of the world drop away. A tear slipped from Alfred's eye and landed on Arthur's cheek, and he pulled away. "I love you. So much I don't know what to do with myself."

The Brit smiled at the words he never thought he'd hear. "I love you too, Alfred."

The boy's eyes widened with joy and he leaned down to steal a quick kiss before working his way down. He started by nibbling the strong jaw, and then moved to the pale column of his neck, lapping almost apologetically at the wound he'd left not long ago. He journeyed to Arthur's collarbone, giving a bite there before moving down again, sucking at pink nipples and running his tongue between hardened abs.

Arthur gasped as his navy boxers were torn from him like the rest of his clothes, and was about to chastise his soon-to-be-lover when he felt hot breath ghost over his bare erection. He looked down just in time to see twin sapphires flutter shut and pink lips stretch wide to accommodate his hard flesh.

Arthur couldn't help but let out a groan and he was encased in that warm heat. He was lost in the sensations that made him leak and harden further. He could feel the ridges on the roof of Alfred's mouth as he turned his head slightly, the warm puffs of air on his abdomen that escaped the honey-blond's nose in pants, and the soft, undulating tongue that slid back and forth as it tried to make room for him.

It was obviously the American's first time doing this. He'd jumped in immediately, foregoing any kind of teasing and he moved sloppily, teeth sometimes grazing the tender flesh. Not that the Brit minded. On the contrary, it was strangely exciting. A deep guttural moan left his lips as Alfred took him farther in, looking up with his large, sky-at-noon eyes as if to gauge his reaction.

As another long moan was torn from the blond man, Alfred began to feel more confident in his ministrations. He may have been inexperienced, but he was a man and he knew where the sensitive spots were. As if to testify to that, Arthur's hips began to buck and his right hand flew out to grasp the American's shoulder. "_Ahn_...Mmm…hahh_…Alfred_! I'm…nmmh…I'm– _Ah!_" Despite the half-warning, the younger nation was caught a little off-guard as Arthur's orgasm hit, and had trouble swallowing it all in time.

As the stars faded from emerald eyes, Arthur looked down blearily and blushed softly at what he saw. A small trickle of come had escaped from the American's mouth, and he was trying to get it with his tongue. "D-don't do that! Here." He leaned over to grab the nearest piece of clothing –which happened to be the remains of his shirt– and crawled over to the other man. He kneeled in front of him and wiped the opaque liquid from the hero's chin, blushing at the huge grin he was dabbing around.

"You looked so cute when you came."

He knew his face was probably lit up like a Christmas tree as he spluttered "I- Wha- Sh-shut up!" Alfred grinned and put a hand on the Brit's hip, shoving him down into his lap. "What are you– oh." In his post-climactic state, he'd completely forgotten that his lover had yet to find release. Now though, with a hard lump grinding into the cleft of his ass, it was difficult to forget. Alfred was nuzzling at the pale chest again, running his pink lips over similarly-hued nipples. Arthur gasped as the American took one stiff nub into his mouth, and suckled it fiercely. He grasped the broad shoulders in front of him and pushed his chest forward into that delicious sensation, biting back a mewl of contentment as a large hand was placed at his back, holding him firmly against the sinful mouth.

Once the smaller man had begun to stiffen again, Alfred let the hand that was holding the Englishman's hip slide down to his waist where his pants were still securely fastened. He fumbled around one-handedly for a few seconds before England took notice of his lover's difficulty. He smiled and let go of the muscular shoulders, sliding his hands sensually down the broad chest until they reached the cursed denim that was firmly situated between him and getting fucked out of his bloody mind.

Smirking, he trailed his fingers over the taut material, his grin widening as the American stilled with England's nipple still trapped firmly between his teeth and moaned from deep in the base of his throat. Slowly, he undid the button, the small 'pop' like thunder between them as he dragged the zipper down at an agonizing pace. "_Arthur_." He moaned.

Alfred knew that he should be feeling impatient right now, but it felt so _good_ with the anticipation zapping through him. He bit his lip as his leaking erection was pulled from its cloth confines.

England pumped the swollen organ slowly, sliding from base to tip purposefully while watching blue eyes fog and roll back with pleasure and drawing out throaty groans and whispers of his name. He took hold of the hand that had abandoned its quest to unleash his member when Arthur had offered his assistance. He watched as questioning azure depths followed the two clasped hands as they made their way to England's lips. He licked at the fingers with as much sexuality as he could muster before placing them into his mouth.

Alfred watched as Arthur lapped and sucked at his fingers, imagining that the hot mouth was somewhere _else_ on his body. The noises that emanated from the ex-pirate were so lewd that the American couldn't take it anymore. He ripped the three digits out of the limey's mouth and substituted his own, crushing their lips together fiercely. The slicked hand made its way to the tight entrance underneath, circling lightly before pushing in. He may be a virgin, but he'd watched enough porn to know that the man needed to be stretched if Alfred was going to fit inside him without pain.

Being prepared by the Yank underneath him was a blur of pain, pleasure, sloppy kisses, and murmured apologies and assurances. Before long, three fingers were sliding in and out of his entrance easily. The Briton shifted his hips to alleviate some of the discomfort when the intruding digits rammed into a small bundle of nerves within him approximately the size of a walnut.

"_Aahh!_" The blond screamed, his hands clenching into fists as pleasure shot through him like white-hot ozone. He heard Alfred let out a winded grunt.

"You– ngh –okay, Arthur?"

The nation nodded, letting out a breath. "Yeah, it's been a while, it surprised me a little."

"Oh, heh, good. Can you, um, let go now?" He glanced down pointedly.

England frowned and looked to see that he a painful grip on Alfred's manhood. "Oh, sorry!" He let go and the honey-blond sighed in relief.

Alfred smirked lightly at the embarrassed blush that flitted across his lover's cheekbones. He kissed each one tenderly. "Wait here for a second." He said, moving the island off of his lap and going to the corner where his end-table was laying overturned in a heap of clutter and disoriented drawers. The burger-lover rummaged around in the mess surrounding the toppled furniture and eventually found what he was looking for. He shuffled back to the blonde, who had a curious frown on his face, and tossed the jar of hand-lotion to him. "Catch." While the Briton was preoccupied, the American wasted no time in stripping down to his bare self and tackling his lover, who released an 'eep' of surprise.

England looked up to see a predatory gleam in Alfred's eyes as he reached for the lotion, applying it generously to his swollen need. Once that was complete, he climbed fully on top of his ex-mentor and positioned himself to enter. He looked at Arthur as if asking for permission, and the Brit had to suppress an eye-roll. As if he would _let_ the man stop. He nodded and placed a hand at the nape of Alfred's neck, pulling him into a deep kiss to distract himself from the large piece of hard flesh entering him.

America had never felt something so pleasurable as when he slid into the other male. This was the man that he'd wanted for _hundreds_ of years. This was the moment that he'd _dreamed_ about, but never thought would actually come. He felt…

Complete.

It was hard to restrain himself from rutting ruthlessly into his new lover, but he told himself that it would be worth it if he waited.

"Alfred…" England panted, pulling away from the kiss and resting his forehead against the other's. "Move."

The younger nation grunted and drew his hips back before re-submerging himself in the tight heat. It was an incredible feeling. After a few more slow thrusts, Arthur threw his head back. "_There_! Alfred right there!" The man nodded and hit the spot again, grunting when his lover clenched tighter around him. He kept it slow at first, but soon they were flying in a frenzy of teeth, skin, and passion. Sounds that could only be described as sex filled the air. Groans, moans, grunts, screams, ragged breaths, the slap of skin –it was overwhelming, and neither could get enough.

The coil in Alfred's stomach was wound so tight, he was sure that something would break if he held it in much longer. "A-Arthur...hah…I'm close." Understatement of the year. He felt like he was teetering on the edge of insanity.

"M-me, to–_ooo_! Ah!" The blond gripped his mate closer so that his manhood was trapped tightly between his stomach and Alfred's toned abs, and the pressure was so amazing that he couldn't hold it anymore. He came hard with a scream and a name on his lips as his vision went white.

Hearing his name called out by his beloved at climax was too much. Alfred had never come so hard in his life, and it took a full minute for the stars and stripes to fade from his vision. When they did, however, he was greeted with the most perfect sight. Arthur looked exhausted, lying there on the floor stark naked with the most blissful look on his face.

"I love you Arthur." He whispered, tucking a lock of golden strands behind a pale ear and settling next to the man, drawing his limp body into his arms.

He heard a tired chuckle and felt a chaste kiss against his chest. "I love you, too."

* * *

**Wow! It took me way too long to write that! Thank you guys for motivating me or it would have never gotten done! :) There will probably be an omake, but I don't know when that will happen. Thank you SOO much for reading this!**


	5. Omake

**Don't ask. This is just me being silly because I can.**

Matthew smiled to himself as the meeting-room doors flung open at his touch. Being invisible most of the time, he was quite unaccustomed to the multitude of eyes that turned to him in anticipation. The hopefulness was almost palpable in the air around them and was only broken when the Canadian grinned and nodded. Whoops and cheers filled the conference hall and even the more stoic nations let out sighs of relief.

"About time!" Called a boisterous albino.

"Things might actually get more peaceful around here now." Muttered a fastidious blond.

"Ahh~ Nothing sweeter than amoure!" Cried a lecherous Frenchman.

"Psst! Mattie!" Whispered a long-haired brunette.

Matthew turned to see Hungary waving him closer. Around her was massed the entire female population of the world. (Which wasn't much, when he thought about it.) She, Belarus, Belgium, Taiwan-chan, Ukraine, Vietnam, Liechtenstein, Seychelles, Monaco, and even the Principality of Wy were all eager for what he had in store. "You brought them, right?"

The blond looked down at his feet. "I don't know, this seems like a violation of privacy…" The determined woman held out her hand and a bottle of maple syrup was placed in it by one of the females behind her. "…but then again, America never was one for respecting others' privacy, ne?"

Once the small package had been exchanged for the delicious maple ambrosia and the Canadian had scurried off to the kitchen with it, dragging a grinning Prussian behind him, the women cheered in triumph. The bundle was open to reveal pictures of America and England together in different ways. Snuggling, spooning, kissing, making out, sharing food, etc.

Excited squeals left the estrogen-drenched group. "He must've followed them around all day, the invisible little sneak."

"Not that we mind, right?" Ukraine asked, as their ringleader flipped to the next picture. A collective gasp left the group at the…graphic picture before them.

"Nope. Not at all."

**This is why I don't own Hetalia. XD**


End file.
